


Iron Dad Week 2019

by mainstreamelectricalparade



Series: Hardest Lessons (Softest Results) [10]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Orphanage, Deaf Peter Parker, Disneyland, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kid Peter Parker, Panic Attacks, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Social Anxiety, only for like one chapter tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-25 20:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18171197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mainstreamelectricalparade/pseuds/mainstreamelectricalparade
Summary: My contribution to Iron Dad Week on Tumblr!





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had a ton of fun working on Iron Dad Week last week! I hope you enjoy these little ficlets. I didn't do ALL the days, but I'm pretty proud of myself for doing most of them.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 1 - Family Day Out (Vacation)

“Can you tell where we are yet, ducky?” Tony asked, holding tightly to Peter’s hand as he led him carefully through the crowd of people-fish all swimming toward the same destination.

“I can’t see,” Peter huffed, constantly alternating between walking normally and balancing precariously on tiptoe, trying to see around all the tall people.

Tony laughed and stopped walking, crouching down next to Peter and pulling him to stand closer, out of the way of all the feet that could very easily step on him. “Try to listen to the music, buddy, can you tell what the song is?” he said, pointing to a speaker nearby that was piping a jazz band arrangement of a familiar tune.

He could tell Peter was straining his ears to listen over the noise of the crowd, but after a moment his eyes lit up. “ _Marry Poppins_!” he cheered.

Tony grinned. Technically it was  _Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious_ , but he didn’t expect his five year old to be able to say that properly. “That’s right, bud. So does that give you a clue? Where do you think we are right now?”

He could see Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy out of the corner of his eye, watching as he prompted Peter to guess the location of the special birthday trip Tony had surprised him with. Rhodey had his video camera out already, to Tony’s amusement.

The three of them had tagged along, Rhodey and Pepper because they didn’t want to miss their favorite kid’s first Disney experience, and Happy because Tony had refused to let any security tag along on the  _family_  vacation. (Or so he claimed; Tony was of the opinion that Happy had warmed up to Peter far more than he was admitting, and actually had the same reason for coming as the other two.)

Peter thought about the question for a minute, his face scrunching up in concentration. “Disneyland?” he asked, looking somewhat doubtful, like he was expecting to be wrong.

Tony broke into an ear-to-Mickey-ear grin. He stood up and lifted Peter up so that he could get a higher view of his surroundings. “Take a look, kiddo.”

He watched Peter’s eyes go wide, taking it all in. They weren’t even in the park, yet, they had just started the trek through Downtown Disney from the hotel, but there were already Mickey ear hats as far as the eye could see, little girls dressed up like Cinderella and Ariel and Jasmine, boys dressed like Buzz Lightyear and Peter Pan and Mickey Mouse, himself.

Hm. Tony would have to see if Peter was interested in dressing up like Peter Pan at some point, because the pun was too great to resist.

“Disneyland!” Peter yelled. “Daddy,  _Disneyland_!”

Tony couldn’t wipe the dopey (ha) grin off his face if he tried, as he pressed a kiss to the back of Peter’s head, not wanting to disrupt the little boy’s view of possibly the most exciting place he had ever been. He glanced over at Rhodey to see if he had caught Peter’s reaction on tape; Rhodey sent him a thumbs up, grinning behind the massive camera glued to his eye.

Peter wiggled excitedly in Tony’s grip. “Can we go, Daddy? Please?” Except it was more like “pwease”, because “L” sounds were still tricky for Peter. A step up from “peas”, which he said until he was almost four, but not quite there yet. Always adorable, though, correct or not.

“Well, it would be a little silly to get this far and not go in, wouldn’t it?” Tony teased, shifting Peter to rest more on his hip. “I take it this is a good surprise, then?” Peter nodded enthusiastically. “Good.” Tony pressed a kiss to Peter’s cheek, then turned to the rest of the group. “You heard the kid, let’s go.”

Pepper laughed. “Ok, then, we’re going!” she said.

* * *

Tony decided before they had even stepped foot in the parking lot that he point-blank refused to let go of Peter’s hand, except maybe in exchange for carrying him or putting him in a stroller when he got tired. (Happy had suggested a backpack leash, but Peter hadn’t liked that idea when he saw them, so Tony vetoed.) Peter didn’t really like strollers most of the time, but Tony had a feeling he’d warm up to them after full days of a lot of walking. Although, with three other adults besides Tony there who were all generally pretty willing to carry Peter, Tony had a feeling Peter would get away with avoiding the strollers anyway.

Peter was practically vibrating with excitement by the time they got through security and the gates. He was back on his own feet again, obediently clutching onto Tony’s hand and tugging it every time he pointed to something and wanted to make sure Tony saw.

“Daddy, there’s a fire truck!” Peter said, running as far over to Tony’s other side as he could without letting go of his hand; Tony switched hands to accommodate his wandering.

Tony looked over to the firehouse Peter was looking at. “Yeah, bud, and do you see who’s out there in front of the truck?”

Peter stood on tip-toe to look. “No,” he pouted. “Too little.”

Tony picked him up again. “I know, kiddo, being short makes life so hard,” he sympathized.

“You really would know, wouldn’t you?” Rhodey teased, nudging Tony in the side. Tony nudged back, just a  _teeny_  bit harder.

Peter looked back to the firehouse to try to spot who Tony was talking about. “Pluto!” he said. “Daddy, Pluto!”

“Yeah. Do you want to go say hi to him?” Tony asked.

Peter’s eyes went impossibly wider. “Can we? He’s not too busy?”

Tony’s insides felt like goo. “Buddy, his whole job is meeting kiddos like you,” he said. “That’s kind of what all the characters do, here.”

“ _Really_?” Peter asked, obviously awestruck. Pepper giggled somewhere behind them.

“Let’s go find out, shall we?”

Peter nodded, so they joined the queue to say hi to Pluto. When it was their turn, Peter got a little shy, as he usually did, but Tony stayed close, and apparently it was hard to resist the warm, fuzzy hug of a big yellow dog. Pluto even made a weird noise that sort of sounded like a cartoon kiss, which made Peter giggle. Rhodey snapped a picture (Tony didn’t really want to ask how many cameras he had on his person) and Peter shyly tugged on Pluto’s arm – paw? - until he crouched back down, and returned a sweet kiss to the big black nose at his eye-level. (That was cause for another quick picture.) Pluto acted as embarrassed as a dog with one set facial expression could, and ruffled his hair. He then waved as Peter took hold of Tony’s hand again and they walked away. Peter waved back, looking slightly starstruck.

This was going to be a  _very_  fun trip.

(And it didn’t take much convincing for Peter to agree to dress up like Peter Pan.)


	2. Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 - School (Presentation)

Peter’s 10th grade science fair project had won, by a landslide, in Tony’s probably biased opinion, and Principal Morita had asked him to do a presentation for the rest of the student body. Tony was  _so damn proud_  of his kid.

Peter, on the other hand, was less than thrilled. He  _hated_  public speaking, hated being the center of attention.

“Dad, I can’t do it!” Peter whined, flopping down on the couch next to Tony and immediately curling up to bury his face in Tony’s chest.

Tony reflexively put an arm around Peter securely. “Can’t do what, kiddo?” he asked, even though he had an idea what Peter meant.

“This stupid presentation,” Peter mumbled, still hiding. “I can’t do it, I’m not  _you_ , I’m not… I don’t know,  _confident_  enough, or whatever, I don’t know how you do it. I’ve practiced my speech ten times, and I keep screwing it up and I can’t ever save it.”

Tony raked his hand through Peter’s hair, gently knocking the curls loose from the gel Peter had put in it before decathlon practice earlier that afternoon. “It’s ok to be nervous, Pete,” he said gently.

“I know, but this is ridiculous!” Peter exclaimed, sitting up abruptly and flinging his arms out for emphasis. “I can’t even get through the first sentence without stuttering, I feel so stupid.”

“Hey,” Tony said sharply, reaching out to grab one of Peter’s waving arms. “You are, in no way, shape, or form, even the slightest bit stupid, and if I hear you say that again I am going to put together a PowerPoint about how wrong you are and present it at a press conference, do not test me.”

Peter flushed and ducked his head. “Ok, ok, please don’t do that,” he said, embarrassed.

Satisfied that he got his message across, Tony released Peter’s wrist to put a hand on the back of his neck and pull him back to his side. “Ok,” he said, more gently now. “What do you think we should do, then?”

“I don’t know,” Peter mumbled, pushing his cheek into Tony’s shoulder. “I wish I could borrow some of your confidence, you’re always so comfortable giving speeches.”

Tony rubbed Peter’s arm soothingly. “I’d lend you some if I could, bud, you know I would.”

“Yeah,” Peter said. “Thanks, dad.” He got up and shuffled his feet. “I guess I’ll just go practice some more, try to quit stuttering so much.”

“Do you want me to come listen?” Tony offered.

Peter shook his head. “That will probably make it worse, but thanks anyway.” He turned and headed for his room slowly.

Tony watched him go, leaning back against the couch cushions, his brow furrowing. He wished he could find a way to help his kid overcome his nerves, but he just didn’t know how to…

Hm.

Maybe he did.

* * *

Peter paced the backstage of the school auditorium, alternating between wringing his hands and fiddling with his note cards. “Oh god, oh god,” he mumbled repeatedly, trying to stop his hands from shaking.

Principal Morita came over and patted Peter’s shoulder. “Five minutes, Mr. Parker,” he said. “I’m going to go do my bit, and I’ll introduce you when it’s your turn, all right?”

 _No, not all right, all wrong, get me out of here_.

“Yes, sir,” Peter agreed, nodding minutely. Principal Morita nodded and went out on the stage. Peter sighed anxiously and went back to pacing. He could hear the principal talking on the other side of the curtain, but he couldn’t focus on what was being said.

Just as he was starting to debate the logistics and probability of making a break for it, he felt a firm hand on his shoulder and jumped, turning around to see who was there.

“Dad?” Peter said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “What, was I not allowed to come listen to my brilliant child’s amazing speech about a project that I know he worked hard on? Am I not allowed to be an embarrassing proud science dad, is that what you’re saying?”

“I literally didn’t  _say_  anything,” Peter grumbled.

“Actually, though,” Tony continued, reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket, “I was thinking about what you said yesterday, about the confidence thing…” He took his hand out of his jacket, bringing something along with it. “And I came to drop these off for you. I do want them back after today, but I thought they might help. Sort of like a mask to hide behind, if you want to think of it that way.” He held the thing out to Peter.

Peter took it and looked at it. He recognized it instantly. “Your sunglasses?” he asked, looking up at his dad. “You’re letting me wear your sunglasses?”

Tony shrugged, squeezing Peter’s shoulder gently. “I can’t physically give you  _my_  confidence, but I can help you find a way to emulate it.”

Peter looked at the glasses in his hand. They were dark lenses, the ones Tony liked to wear when he was talking to people he didn’t like, or didn’t feel comfortable around. They hid his eyes from view, so that whoever he was talking to couldn’t tell his emotions apart.

Tony had clearly put some thought into which pair of glasses he lent Peter.

Peter lurched forward and wrapped his arms around his dad tightly, nuzzling briefly into his chest. “Thanks, Dad,” he mumbled.

Tony rubbed Peter’s back and gave him a quick squeeze. “You’re welcome, peanut,” he said, quietly so that nobody nearby could hear the cutesy childhood nickname except for Peter. Tony pulled back and took the glasses from Peter’s hand. “Now, then, let’s see what this looks like,” he said, unfolding them and sliding them onto Peter’s face.

Peter blinked, his eyes adjusting to the dim backstage light becoming even darker. “What do you think?” he asked.

Tony tilted his head. “I hate it,” he decided, “you look too much like an adult, you’re too young to be an adult.”

Peter laughed. “I’m fifteen,” he said.

Tony shuddered. “Don’t remind me.”

“-so now, I am pleased to introduce the winner of this year’s tenth grade science fair, Peter Stark, to give a presentation on the innovative technology he designed.”

Tony reached up to adjust Peter’s hair quickly, then kissed his forehead and patted his shoulder. “Knock ‘em dead, kiddo,” he said. “I love you. And I’m so proud of you, you know that?”

Peter smiled. “I know, Dad. Love you, too.”


	3. Day 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3 - Circle of Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to do notes for this fic, but I just wanted to apologize in advance for the first few lines of this chapter... I don't know why I did that...

“ _Wait, what’s going on?”_

“ _What’s happening?”_

“ _What… Where did they go?”_

“ _Dad?”_

_**(“Oh, god.”)** _

“ _I don’t… something feels weird.”_

_**(“No. No, god-”)** _

“ _I don’t feel so good.”_

_**(“You’re- you’re ok, sweetheart-”)** _

“ _I’m scared, Daddy.”_

_**(“Peter-”)** _

“ _I’m sorry.”_

_**(“PETER!”)** _

* * *

Peter felt like he was floating.

More accurately, he supposed he felt like he was waking up from a long nap. That feeling of coming back to consciousness and feeling both light and heavy at the same time, and wanting to open your eyes, but you’ve been asleep for so long you’re not sure it’s possible anymore.

He heard a voice somewhere close by, gentle but insistent, and maybe a little scared.

“ _Peter, baby, open your eyes, come on, I know you’re there, let me see those beautiful Bambi eyes._ ”

 _I’m trying_.

The voice broke; it sounded sad. “ _Come back, peanut, come back to me. Please._ ”

 _Don’t be sad_ , Peter thought,  _I’m waking up, I promise, just give me a minute._

He couldn’t remember, in his groggy state, exactly why he didn’t want this voice to be sad, but he felt unbearably distressed at the thought of it.

He couldn’t let the voice be sad anymore.

Peter forced himself to start focusing a little more. He could feel a hand on his face, rough with calluses with an incredibly gentle touch. He could smell something like motor oil, sweat, and traces of something like cologne that hadn’t been reapplied in a while. All the different components together were nice; comforting, grounding. Familiar.

“Dad,” Peter murmured, and his voice croaked from disuse. His eyes were still closed; he couldn’t bring himself to open them yet.

“ _Peter_ ,” his dad gasped, and something beside Peter shifted. “I’m right here, buddy, Dad’s here, just open your eyes for me, come on.” The thumb of the hand on his face started stroking back and forth, rubbing a soothing rhythm into his skin. “Come on, Spider-Baby.”

Peter squeezed his eyes further shut, then forced them to open as wide as possible. That ended up being something like a squint, because the light wasn’t  _that_  bright, but he still wasn’t used to it. He almost closed his eyes again, but he remembered his dad probably didn’t want him to do that, so he resorted to blinking rapidly instead. As his eyes adjusted, a familiar figure came into focus, hovering over him.

 _Dad_.

Peter zeroed in on his dad’s face, taking in his hopeful, yet worried expression. The circles under his eyes were darker than usual, and he had a couple of small cuts that were just starting to scab over.

“There you are,” Tony said, his voice filling with relief. “There’s my boy.”

Peter’s chest filled with a warm, fuzzy feeling at his words. “Dad,” he croaked again.

Tony’s face broke out into a smile that was happy, but also tired. “That’s me,” he said, his thumb keeping up the gentle rubbing on Peter’s cheek.

Peter suddenly felt like Tony was too far away, even though he was close enough to touch, and he lifted his arms up, even though they felt strangely heavy and rigid. “ _Dad_ ,” he whined, trying to sit up.

Tony quickly moved to help him, pulling him upright and immediately enveloping him in a warm hug. “You’re all right,” he whispered, burying his hand in Peter’s hair. “You’re ok, I’m right here, I’ve got you. Dad’s got you.”

Tears filled Peter’s eyes as everything that had led up to this moment started to flood back into his memory. “Oh, god,” he choked. “I-  _Dad_ , I-”

“Shh,” Tony said. “I know, baby, I know. You’re all right, now, I promise. Everything’s going to be ok.”

Peter let out an embarrassing whimper, pressing his face into his dad’s neck. Tony hushed him again and started up a slow rocking motion.

“ _Baby mine, don’t you cry  
_ _Baby mine, dry your eyes  
_ _Rest your head close to my heart  
_ _Never to part  
_ _Baby of mine.”_

Tony’s soft singing combined with the rocking calmed Peter’s nerves, and he started to relax a little. He thought he could feel his hair getting a little damp where Tony was pressing his face into it, but with how soaked Tony’s shirt was getting, Peter had no room to complain.

Peter sniffled, feeling overwhelmed by everything. They were still on the alien planet, and it was orange and apocalyptic and dusty and horrible, his senses were going wild, and he just wanted to go home and be with his dad, and Pepper and Rhodey and Happy and Ned. “I wanna go home,” he mumbled.

Tony pressed a kiss into his hair. “Then let’s go, huh? Let’s get you home.”


	4. Day 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 4: Free Day

“Did you know Happy’s got a girlfriend?” Tony said, grinning from ear to ear like this was the best news he had ever heard, but purely for “I just found something to make fun of my best friend for” purposes.

Peter looked up from his Calculus homework. “Really?”

“Yeah, I guess they met at a coffee house or something cliché like that, been dating for about a month,” Tony said. “I said I want to meet this woman, but Happy’s being very stubborn.”

“Because he knows you’re going to embarrass him,” Peter pointed out.

“I would do no such thing,” Tony said, affronted, but Peter fixed him with a Look that, despite his baby face and Bambi eyes, somehow managed to rival one of Pepper’s. “Ok, no, I definitely would, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be allowed to meet her, Happy’s practically giddy these days, by Happy standards.”

This was true. Happy seemed to have a bounce in his step that wasn’t usually there, and he didn’t tell Peter to shut up nearly as often when he drove him to and from decathlon practices in the afternoons.

“So what’s her name?” Peter asked, turning back to his homework.

“Hell if I can remember, it was a month, or something. April, June…”

“May,” Happy said gruffly, coming into the kitchen and grabbing an apple out of the basket on the island.

“That was it,” Tony said, pointing.

“So when can we meet her, Uncle Happy?” Peter asked, only half-joking.

Happy frowned at him. “Not you, too,” he complained. “Your father has been hounding me to bring her over since he found out about her.”

“We have to make sure she’s worthy,” Tony said defensively, in a way that implied he had said it several times already.

“You can’t just take my word for it?” Happy grumbled, aggressively biting into his apple.

“Nope,” Tony said, popping the “P”.

“Come on, Uncle Happy, she has to meet the family sometime,” Peter wheedled, strongly considering pulling out the puppy dog eyes.

“Yeah, see, the kid gets it,” Tony said, waving his arm in Peter’s direction. “Tell you what, you don’t even have to invite her yourself, I’ll do it, just tell me what her last name is,” he added, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he spoke.

Happy glared at him. “It’s Parker, but don’t you  _dare_  contact her, Tony, I mean it-”

Tony froze. “Parker?” he repeated. “May Parker?”

“Yeah, May Parker,” Happy said, giving Tony a funny look. “Why?”

Tony glanced at Peter briefly, then back at his phone. “No reason.” He started heading out of the kitchen. “Ok, fine, you win, you don’t have to introduce us,” he said.

“Thank you,” Happy grumbled, taking another bite of his apple.

Peter watched his dad leave, confused by his sudden change in attitude.

 _That was weird_.

* * *

“FRIDAY, pull up a former employee record for me, will you?” Tony asked, barging into his lab at top walking speed and making a beeline for his computers. “Parker, first name Richard”

“Right away, Boss,” FRIDAY said. Instantly, the nearest computer screen started flicking autonomously through files, stopping on the one Tony had requested. “Richard Parker, former head of Research and Development until his death following a plane crash in 2007.”

Tony leaned forward. “Find his list of direct relatives,” he said, scanning the document.

“Harrison Parker, father, alive, Judy Parker, mother, deceased, Benjamin Parker, brother, deceased, Mary Fitzpatrick, wife from 2002 to 2007, deceased, no children,” FRIDAY recited, zooming in on the part of the document she was reading from.

Mother, brother, and wife all deceased. This was turning out to be a depressing search. Tony had known Mary was dead, too, but it was still depressing to see it in the file.

“Do a search for the brother, for me,” Tony said, determined to see if his hunch about Happy’s new girlfriend was right.

FRIDAY was quiet for a moment. “Sergeant Benjamin Parker, Manhattan Police Department, deceased as of January, 2016.”

“Married? Kids?”

“Married to May Watson from 1998 to 2016, no children.”

 _May Parker_.

Tony was right.

“Can you get his wife’s phone number, for me?” he asked, feeling a little jittery.

“Certainly,” FRIDAY said easily, putting the number up on the screen. Tony typed it into the dial pad on his phone, but hesitated to press call.

This woman would have been Peter’s aunt, if Mary and Richard had raised him.

Tony took a deep breath, and hit call.

The phone rang three times, then picked up.

“ _Hello_?” a woman’s voice answered.

Tony cleared his throat. “Hello, is this May Parker?”

“ _This is she, may I ask who’s calling_?”

 _Sure, but you won’t believe me_.

“I’m a friend of Happy Hogan’s,” Tony said. “Or, Harold, I don’t know what you call him.”

“ _Oh_ ,” May said, sounding surprised. “ _Um, ok. Is Harry ok? Why are you calling me_?”

 _Harry_. Tony would have to find time to laugh about that later.

“No, yeah, he’s fine,” Tony said. He considered stalling, but that wouldn’t be very adult of him. “I was actually calling because your name sounded familiar, and I was wondering if you happened to be related to Richard and Mary Parker, by any chance?” He knew the answer already, but didn’t want that to be obvious, because it was admittedly a little creepy. Or, very creepy. Ok, borderline stalkerish.

“ _Uh, yes, actually, Richard was my late husband’s younger brother_ ,” May said, the surprise lingering in her voice. “ _Why do you ask_?”

 _Here it goes_.

“Mrs. Parker, my name is Tony Stark,” he said, forcing himself not to rush through the words. “You’re dating my head of security-” (he had to resist the urge to say “forehead” of security) “-and when I heard your name I had to follow a hunch, and it turns out I was right.”

There was another pause on the other end. “ _Tony Stark?_ ”

“Yes.”

Another pause. “ _Ok_ ,” May said faintly. “ _Ok, sure, why not. You said you had a hunch? What hunch was that?_ ”

“I don’t know if you recall, but Mary was pregnant about sixteen years ago,” Tony said, realizing just a little too late that that sounded creepy, too.

“ _Yes, I remember_ ,” May said slowly. “ _She gave the baby to the father, what about it_?”

Tony cleared his throat again. “I’m the father, Mrs. Parker.”

There was a crashing noise and some muffled swearing on the other end, which was. A little concerning.

“Mrs. Parker? Is everything all right?” Tony asked.

“ _Um_ ,” May said, sounding a little breathless. “ _Yes, fine, Mr, um. Mr. Stark. I- you- Ok. So… that’s why you called?_ ”

“Uh, yeah,” Tony said. “Yeah, that’s why. I just… wondered if you might like to know. Since you knew Richard and Mary.”

“ _Ben loved Richard,_ ” May mused distantly. “ _And Mary was one of my best friends. I never knew… They never told us_ _you_ _were the baby’s father_.”

Tony was actually sort of relieved to hear that; it was nice to know that Richard and Mary had respected his privacy, even within the confines of their family. Never knew who might be a closet blabbermouth until it was too late.

“So you were close,” Tony said, his mind racing. “I don’t suppose… You wouldn’t want to meet Peter, would you?”

“ _Peter_ ,” May repeated, like she was testing it out. “ _His name is Peter_?”

“Peter Parker Stark,” Tony recited. “He’s… he’s an amazing kid.”

“ _I’m sure he is_ ,” May said softly. “ _Mary was a wonderful woman_.” She paused. “ _Would you really let me see him?_ ”

“I suppose you are kind of family to him,” Tony said. “Lord knows the kid doesn’t have enough of that.” His throat closed up a little as he said it. “I’m sure he’d love to meet his aunt.”

May laughed, a little breathlessly. “ _Oh my god,_ ” she said. “ _You know, we’re on Richard’s side, not Mary’s_.”

“That wouldn’t matter to Peter,” Tony said truthfully. “This kid has… the biggest heart you’ll ever see.”

May went quiet again. “ _I’d love to meet him_ ,” she whispered. “ _Oh, god, I’d_ _really_ _love to meet him_.”

“Great,” Tony said, lowering his voice to match the tone of the conversation. “Do you want to come to the penthouse, or meet up somewhere?”

“ _Oh, um_ ,” May said. “ _I don’t know. Wherever Peter would be more comfortable, I guess_.”

That instantly made Tony relax; anyone who was more concerned with Peter’s comfort and safety than their own, or at lease  _as_  concerned, was ok in his book.

“I’ll talk to him,” Tony said, “and I’ll call you back when I find out what he’d rather do.”

“ _That sounds good_ ,” May agreed. “ _I… Thank you, Mr. Stark, you have no idea how much this means to me_.”

Tony thought he might have some idea, but he didn’t say that. “My pleasure, Mrs. Parker. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“ _Yes_ ,” she agreed. “ _Soon. Good bye, Mr. Stark._ ”

“Good bye.”

* * *

“Hey, Pete,” Tony said, looking into Peter’s room. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Peter looked up from his homework, which he had spread all across his bed around him as he sat in the middle. At the sight of the somewhat serious look on his face, his brows knitted together in concern. “Is everything ok?”

“It’s fine, buddy, no worries, it’s nothing bad, I just want to talk to you about something,” Tony said, while Peter cleared a place for him to sit among all the papers and textbooks. “It’s about Happy’s girlfriend.”

Peter looked confused. Tony sat down in the newly cleared space on the bed and turned to face Peter. “You mean May Parker? What about her?”

“You remember when I told you about your mom, right? Mary?”

“Yeah,” Peter said, nodding.

“Well, turns out Mary’s husband, Richard, had a brother named Ben,” Tony continued, “and Ben was May’s husband. He died a while ago.”

Peter’s eyes went wide. “Happy’s girlfriend is my mom’s… husband’s… sister-in-law?” he asked, talking slowly as he tried to figure out the relation.

Tony nodded. “She is, buddy. I just talked to her on the phone a few minutes ago, told her about all of this. I wanted to know if you’d feel comfortable meeting her. Not as Happy’s girlfriend, but as a friend of your mom’s. Your aunt, in a way, I guess.”

Peter considered this. “Does she want to?”

Tony nodded again. “She’d love to, if you do.”

Peter worked his lower lip between his teeth until Tony reached up and used his thumb to pry it free.

“I think I want to meet her,” Peter said quietly. “But… I want you to be there, too.” He looked a little nervous.

Tony brushed a loose curl off Peter’s forehead. “Of course I’ll be there, kiddie.” Peter relaxed immediately. “Do you want to meet her here, or go somewhere?”

“Here, I think,” Peter said. “If that’s ok.”

“She said it was up to you, bud, that’s completely fine,” Tony assured him. He leaned forward and kissed Peter’s forehead, then looked down at all the homework spread across the bed. “How’s the work going?”

“Almost done,” Peter said, “I’ll bring it out for you to check in like half an hour.”

“Perfect,” Tony said, getting up. “I’m off to call May back, then, I’ll be in the lab if you need me.”

“Ok, Dad.” Peter got back to work, and Tony left him to it, already pulling out his phone again.

* * *

“ _I can’t believe you had to force me to let you meet my girlfriend by unraveling a big family secret,_ ” Happy grumbled over the phone.

He was on his way to pick May up from her apartment, as per Tony’s request.

“I had a hunch, Hap, and it just so happened that I was right,” Tony said. “Do you really want to be the reason Peter isn’t allowed to meet the woman who might be the last living connection to his mom?”

Happy swore at Tony. “ _I’m on her street, so I’m hanging up now,_ ” he said. “ _We’ll be back in about 20 minutes._ ”

“Sounds good,” Tony said.

“ _No, it doesn’t_.”

“That’s because you suck.” And with that (very mature) statement, Tony hung up. He looked in the direction of Peter’s room. “20 minutes, Pete,” he called.

Peter came out of his room, fidgeting nervously with the sleeves of his Midtown sweatshirt. Actually, it looked like it might be  _Ned’s_  Midtown sweatshirt, based on the fit, which was even more oversized than usual. The kid was a notorious -and shameless- sweatshirt thief. “Do you think she’ll like me?” he asked.

Tony lifted an arm to invite Peter to join him on the couch. Peter crossed the room in seconds to nestle into his side, tossing one leg over Tony’s knees and resting his head on his shoulder. “I don’t see how she could possibly  _not_  like you, bud. You are, without a doubt, the greatest kid I know.”

“You’re my dad,” Peter grumbled. “You’re biased.”

“Totally and completely,” Tony agreed nudging his nose against the top of Peter’s head. “Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

“I guess,” Peter said.

“You just wait and see, kid, she’s going to love you,” Tony said. “I promise.”

* * *

Almost exactly 20 minutes later, Happy sent Tony a text that said “coming up”.

“All right, kiddo, they’re on their way up,” Tony said, patting Peter’s shoulder. “You ready?”

“Um. I think so?” Peter said, reaching up to smooth a hand over his hair. He had, regrettably, gelled it, so most of the curl was gone, but Tony had long since resigned himself to the fact that Peter just didn’t like his curls as much as he did.

The door that led to the hallway of the penthouse floor opened and Happy came in, with an average-height, dark-haired woman wearing glasses, a tank top, and a pair of jeans. Her hair was braided loosely over her shoulder.

Tony stood up from the couch to greet them. “Hey, Hap,” he said. He turned to the woman and held his hand out. “You must be Mrs. Parker,” he said.

“May,” she corrected, shaking his hand, “please, Mr. Stark, Mrs. Parker makes me feel old.”

“And Mr. Stark makes  _me_  feel old, so you’ll have to call me Tony,” Tony said, making her laugh.

“Touche,” she said, letting go of his hand. “It’s nice to meet you in person, Tony.”

“Same to you.” Tony looked over his shoulder and held his arm out. “Pete, come here.”

Peter stood up slowly and approached the three adults. He stepped under Tony’s arm and settled against his side. Tony could practically feel the anxiety radiating from him, and draped his arm across his kid’s shoulders in reassurance.

“This is Peter,” Tony said. He tapped his finger against Peter’s shoulder. “Say hi, Pete.”

“Hi, Pete,” Peter mumbled automatically, blushing as he realized what he had just done. “I mean, um.” He looked at May briefly. “Hi.”

May bit her lip, looking like she was trying desperately not to laugh at his slip. “Hi, Peter,” she said warmly. “I’m May, I was friends with your mom. It’s wonderful to finally meet you.”

Peter nodded, still flushed with embarrassment. “You, too,” he said.

Tony gestured to the living area. “Shall we?”

“Sure,” May said, and she and Happy followed Tony to sit down. Tony and Peter sat on the larger couch in the middle, and Happy and May took the love seat that sat off to the same side.

Nobody spoke for a minute, but then May, after looking at Peter almost like she was studying his face, held a hand up to her mouth. “Oh, my god,” she said softly, her voice filling with emotion, “you look so much like Mary.”

Peter’s eyes snapped to her in surprise. “I do?” he asked, apparently forgetting to be shy.

May nodded and smiled, her eyes shining. “Well, you do obviously have a lot of Tony’s features, his eyes, for sure,” she said, confirming what literally everybody else who had met Peter also thought, “but that’s  _definitely_  Mary’s nose.”

Peter reached up, almost subconsciously, to touch his nose. “I didn’t know that,” he mumbled. He turned to look at Tony, like he had never really noticed his nose before. “I guess so.”

“I knew your nose was too cute to come from me,” Tony said causally, which made Peter blush again and sink down into the couch.

After he had recovered from his second bout of embarrassment, Peter looked at May again.

“Can you… tell me about my mom?” he asked shyly.

May smiled brightly. “Of course I can.”

Tony had definitely made the right call, bringing these two together.


	5. Day 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 7: Food

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one branches out from my Hardest Lessons series! And Harley is in it! Yay!
> 
> (This fic is a sneak peek/prologue for an upcoming fic by yours truly. A lot of people seemed excited about that when I mentioned it on Tumblr, so I hope you are, too!)

It wasn’t exactly a secret that Tony Stark frequently visited a nearby children’s home, to hang out with the kids and, more often than not, snuggle a baby or two.

He had been doing it for years, and he loved it. He knew the media liked to portray him as cold, heartless, and detached, but there was nothing he loved more than driving to that children’s home in Queens and bringing something fun for the kids; books, toys, games, whatever. He had a list of things he either could tell they desperately needed, like new clothes when they started to outgrow the ones they had or they started falling apart, or things he had overheard the kids talking about that they wanted, but couldn’t ask for because of budget.

Well, Tony Stark had no budget, and he was more than happy to play Santa Claus in April, just to see those kids light up like the 4th of July.

Tony’s favorite part of his visits, however, was just spending time with the kids. They were full of hope and excitement, and they didn’t care that he was famous, as long as he was willing to sit down on the floor with them and play, with LEGOS, Barbies, blocks, puzzles, or anything else the kids could find to make a game out of. He had played hopscotch on the sidewalk of a busy New York street more than once, and he knew for a fact that people had taken photos and written articles about that, and he couldn’t care less. Especially since the publicity had gotten more than a few of those kids fostered or adopted.

After he had spent a sufficient amount of time with the older kids, Tony liked going upstairs to the nursery and holding some of the babies. There were so many crowded into one room, and there wasn’t enough staff to give them quite as much attention as they needed, so Tony tried to get around to cuddling as many as he could in an afternoon, just so those precious little babies could get even a fraction of the love and attention they deserved.

A couple of babies came into the nursery a few days apart from each other sometime in early 2002, two boys, and the staff put both of them in one crib, because there was no room for them to each have their own. The next time Tony visited, he saw them huddled together, one of them with an arm flung across the other one’s tummy, in an almost protective manner.

The attendant said their names were Harley and Peter. Plastic protected signs on the end of the crib indicated that Harley was nine months old, Peter six. That seemed odd, to Tony; Harley looked like a normal size, but Peter seemed far too small to be six months old.

“Does Peter have any health problems?” Tony asked the attendant.

She rolled her eyes. “I think the folks who dropped him off said he was premature. He’s not sick, he’s just a runt. Deaf, too, barely reacts to anything. Good thing, at that, because the other one kicks up a hell of a fuss whenever we get near him.”

Tony peered into the crib at the two boys. Harley stared back; Peter was asleep. “Hi, there,” he said to Harley. “I’m Tony. Looks like you’ve made a friend, in there. That’s good.”

Harley kept staring at Tony. Tony was used to babies not blinking, otherwise he might be a little unnerved. Next to him, Peter stirred and started to blink his eyes open, yawning widely in an adorable puppy-like manner. Then he started to do an odd hand motion, cupping his hand and dragging it down his chest toward his belly. He did it a few times, looking directly at Tony, then seemed to realize Tony didn’t know what he was doing. His face crumpled and he let out a pitiful whimper. Harley looked over at him and patted at Peter’s tummy clumsily, like he was trying to comfort him.

Tony reached into the crib, watching Harley carefully for any negative reactions like the attendant had warned. He picked Peter up and held him to his chest. He knew Peter wouldn’t be able to understand him if he spoke, but he thought that a gentle touch might be soothing.

Peter did the hand motion a few more times, almost half-heartedly, like he wasn’t expecting anything to come of it. It was sort of heartbreaking, how resigned he already was to the fact that nobody knew what he needed.

Tony thought he remembered reading somewhere that babies could communicate in sign language even before they could talk, if their parents taught them how to sign the words for their basic needs. Maybe that’s what Peter was doing. Tony watched Peter do it again, paying more attention this time.

“Looks like he wants something,” Tony said to the attendant.

She scoffed. “He never wants anything, he’s impossible to look after, he never makes any indication that he might want something, and we have to guess.”

Tony shook his head. “I think he does try to tell you, and you just can’t see it,” he insisted. “Look at him.”

She looked critically at the little baby in Tony’s arms, still doing the hand motion. “What’s he doing?”

“I think it’s sign language,” Tony said.

She fixed him with an unimpressed look. “He’s a baby.”

“Babies can use sign language,” Tony pointed out. “He might be hungry.” He rubbed Peter’s tummy gently with two fingers. “Are you hungry, buddy? Yeah?”

The attendant looked like she wanted to point out that Peter couldn’t hear him, but she decided against it.

Peter looked up at Tony in reaction to the rubbing with big, sad brown eyes, and patted the fingers on his tummy with his whole, tiny hand. He did the motion again.

“Where do you keep the bottles and formula?” Tony asked. He didn’t usually feed the babies when he visited; most of them were either already fed or could easily communicate when they needed to be, but Peter obviously couldn’t. Tony was worried that he might end up becoming malnourished if the staff continued the way they were currently going about his care.

The attendant pointed to the side of the room that had two wall cabinets, a sink, and some empty counter space with three bottle warmers sitting on top of it. Tony went over to it, holding Peter securely against his chest, and started rummaging through the cupboards for the formula powder and a bottle. He followed the directions carefully, and after a few minutes he had successfully mixed and warmed a bottle, which he offered to Peter.

The little baby reached for the bottle with both hands, his eyes brightening, and opened his mouth. Tony guided the bottle in and let Peter hold onto it as he drank greedily. Tony looked over at the attendant, triumphant and smug. She shrugged passively and went to check on another baby that had started screaming.

Tony carried Peter back over to the crib where Harley was still being held prisoner. He looked down at Harley, who had sat up in his absence and started fiddling with a little stuffed bunny that had apparently been left in the crib. “Look, buddy, I figured out what your friend needed,” Tony said. He looked back at Peter, who was still sucking fervently on the bottle Tony had given him. “Hey, slow down, champ, or that’s all going to come right back up,” he added, tilting the bottle down ever so slightly to attempt to slow Peter’s drinking speed. Peter fussed a bit until he realized Tony wasn’t trying to take the bottle away, then accepted the new angle and kept sucking. His eyes were half-lidded, like he was blissed out from finally being able to fill his belly.

Harley watched Peter with his wide-eyed stare, then looked up and Tony and offered him a small, half-toothy smile.

Tony’s heart melted a little bit. (A lot.)

* * *

When Tony left the children’s home that evening, he stopped at the book store and bought a copy of every book and video about ASL he could find.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr and Instagram! @riseuplikeglitterandgold


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